


Strange Mischief

by Arcadias_Fire



Series: Seeking Mischief [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF Loki (Marvel), Dubious Consent, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infinity Stones, Loki (Marvel) Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Sibling Incest, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadias_Fire/pseuds/Arcadias_Fire
Summary: “What do you want, Loki?”“I want to get away from this nightmare imitation of Midgard,” the god snapped.“What do you mean?”“This is not our world, Strange, we don’t exist here. We are fictional.”After the events of Thor: Ragnarok, Dr. Strange sends his consciousness out into the universe in search of the Infinity Stones, and finds one in the possession of a certain trickster god who is none to please with the good Doctor. The two sorcerers clash with will and magic, and the battle flings their minds and souls to far away places, beyond anything the two of them ever imagined.





	1. Earth 199999

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story takes place between the end of Thor: Ragnarok and the credit stingers. It is as compliant as it can be with everything that was available AT THE TIME OF WRITING, which included the Infinity War trailer. It contains spoilers for Ragnarok. Other spoiler warnings and will be posted for individual chapters.
> 
> NOTE as of 9/15/18, this story has undergone a major edit for style, but not for content. I fixed my infant writing, but did not attempt to make this story compliant with _Infinity War_ because it would break. Hopefully it's more tolerable now.

 

Dr. Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, sat studying. He was alone in his sanctum, floating about three feet above what would have been the floor, had this been a space that resembled reality in any meaningful way. His cloak swam behind him in soft curves, entertaining itself by replicating sign waves. The Eye of Agamotto hovered above his chest encased in its oblong bronze case, glowing a quiet green. He wasn’t trying to access its temporal powers, just tune into its affinity to its sibling stones to discover where they were, scattered throughout the universe.  

 

He knew where the Mind Stone was. He had spoken with the entity known as Vision at length and had been able to track the stone wherever Vision was on Earth. But he needed to move beyond the sphere of the planet and adjacent dimensions if they were to get any upper hand over Thanos. His best bet for confirming his theories was to trace the Tesseract. Since it had been on Earth within the last few years and it should be on Asgard, he should be able to trace its whereabouts. If he could achieve this, it should be possible to locate the others. 

 

Strange drew a series of runes in the air around him. They flared and flamed into life, bright in the relative darkness. He focused his energies through the stone around his neck, reached out into space, through dimensions, into the infinite scope of the universe, and sent his astral body out into the cosmos. 

 

o0o

 

Loki sat cross-legged on his narrow bunk on the overcrowded ship. He was thankful to be alone - even it was in a horrendously small space, completely unbefitting of his status. There was a door, it locked, and that was enough for the moment. The god couldn’t quite believe that he was here at all. Two blissful years enjoying the best that Asgard had to offer apparently had made him soft and complacent. Allowing Thor to get the better of him not once, but  _ three  _ times was simply too much. Loki studied his hands and drew one of his daggers to remove a speck of dirt from under a nail. Maybe Thor was right, he was getting  _ predictable. _ His lip curled in disgust at the thought.

 

Never in a thousand years did he expect to find himself in such sad circumstances. A refugee ship with all that was left of Asgard, back by his brother’s side. On the other hand, it  _ was _ different. Not  _ predictable. _ And being here was very nearly pleasant. Thor seemed to have forgiven him for everything - which was a surprise - and his brother had received a hefty taste of what Odin’s betrayal felt like. That last part was satisfying. Very satisfying. 

 

So what now? Loki could take his place as his brother’s right hand man, as he’d a expected to do when they were young. Before everything had gone to Hel. Thor had matured enough that he would actually make a decent king now, not that Loki would have told him that to his face. There was a sense of security to that plan. He’d have a degree of freedom, more autonomy than as Asgard’s king, realistically. He would have power, if not comfort. At least for the time being. 

 

Thor’s annoying friends were dead - or “missing”, in the case of Sif - so it would be just the two of them. That would be rather nice. It wouldn’t be like it was  _ before _ , and that would hurt, but it might be like when they were boys. It would be awhile before Thor trusted him completely. Well, as completely as he ever did. 

 

Would be worth it? He could still leave. 

 

Loki vanished the dagger and pulled the Tesseract out of his dimensional pocket. The cube’s blue glow bathed the room with an eerie light as he held it up in front of his eyes, casting stark shadows across the angles of his face. Loki pulled on his magic, just for a moment, and looked off into the dimensions that Tesseract reached into by its nature. If he’d had to describe it to a non-Seidr user, he would have said that the Tesseract existed simultaneously in multiple dimensions at right angles to itself. He didn’t expect that to make sense to them, but that’s how he would explain it. 

 

After all he went through to get this stupid thing in the first place, it was good to have it in his hands again. Its cool energy called to him. Wanderlust.  _ Travel, see the universe. I can show you everything, anything. It’s a beautiful place. Let’s go, let’s go. _ He’d avoided interacting with it while he was “being Odin” because of the siren call.  And it reminding him of his time with Thanos and the Other, which he’d much rather forget. He cradled the azure cube in his hands, in his lap, eyes closed. Loki let himself settle into the stone, align his senses to it, and sent his astral self out along the lines of the Tesseract. Wherever it wanted to take him.

 

o0o

 

Strange followed the path that the Eye of Agamotto’s affinity to the Tesseract created for him. His astral body shot through space, still anchored to his body far behind, a thin line connecting him back to Earth. Oddly, the Tesseract felt closer than he expected. Perhaps his calculations had been off? 

 

Although he’d seen nothing, circular wards adorned with mystical sigils flowed around his form, protecting him from whatever might reside in this dimension. Carelessness got him injured in the first place; he’d learned better by now. Strange moved one of the circles forward, twisting it to his will, changing its nature to track the Tesseract more closely. It was… moving? Strange frowned, elegant brows coming together in a scowl, even in his astral form. Something was very wrong. 

 

o0o

 

Loki’s senses danced. This was nothing like the Void, so full with terrifying shadows of nothingness and chittering evil. This was awesome beauty, incomprehensible sensation, incalculable freedom. Loki felt the pulse of the universe flow through him, in all its chaotic artistry. He understood the essence of chaos; that it was both necessary and not at all what most thought it to be. With absolute order, life could not exist. This was what being a magician of his nature was; this experience of wild nature in all its forms. It was a pity no one appreciated it. 

 

He felt a slight twinge from a string of the Tesseract’s reach.  Loki focused his attention on that reaching line, and it quivered.  _ Interesting. _ He sped along that line wondering what it was reaching towards in such expectancy. It felt like… It felt like when he’d first brought his scepter and the Tesseract together. Not that he’d been paying that much attention at the time, exhausted and ailing as he’d been, but yes, that’s what this was.  _ If there’s another Infinity Stone at the other end, that would be well worth acquiring. _ Loki increased his speed, wrinkling the space so that he skipped along it like a stone across water. 

 

o0o

 

By the time that Dr. Strange saw the gleaming green missile headed towards him, it was too late to do much. He increased his shielding and braced for impact. The chaotic object bounced in and out space - rather than flowing through it like a normal astral body - making it impossible to predict. It smashed into his shields and shattered them and barbed iced ripped through the magical protections like they were wet paper. 

 

Strange plummeted to the side, unhurt but frantically trying to put his wards back up. He drew the circles quickly as he fell, calling weapons as well as shields. He turned to face his attacker as another wall of frozen shards shattered against his wards. 

 

When the ice slid away from the burning sigils, Dr. Strange saw the form of an Asgardian who he’d rather hoped he’d never see again, and he did not look pleased. 

 

“Loki.” Strange was proud that his voice came out completely even. 

 

Loki’s astral form - much like his own - was dressed in formal magician’s robes of black, green, and gold rather than the trim black suit he’d worn on Earth. 

 

“It’s time for payback, you ridiculous jumped up apprentice.” Loki swooped towards Strange with a sadistic grin and hurled green bolts of power at him like daggers. The human magician dodge and deflected the missiles. They came in so quickly that he had no opening for a counter-attack and the area around them lacked even a stray asteroid to take shelter behind. 

 

As Loki moved closer, Strange  saw a buildup of power flow through the god’s body, even as he did the same himself. He lashed out with a whip of his energy. Loki parried the whip with dagger laid along his arm which hadn’t been there a moment before. The god dodged another lash of the whip but the third struck, burning a thin line into his cheek. The god’s pale eyes narrowed and he snarled, diving for Strange. 

 

Loki caught the whip as it struck the fourth time. Astral smoke rose from the hand that held the burning strands, but Loki didn’t seem to notice. Instead, the god yanked on the weapon, pulling Strange forward. The human magician released the whip, and it dissipated, but now the magic users were with melee range. 

 

Strange slashed forward with the discs on his arms, which wirled like blades to strike at the god’s defenses, but Loki ducked and wove like a trained martial artist. He struck with daggers that streamed green power, trailing off the knives like sparling drops of blood. 

 

Loki’s daggers and Stange’s spinning blades clashed with a shriek as each magic user tried to press the advantage. Unfortunately for Stephen, even in this form, the god was stronger.  _ Shit shit shit. _ He pulled on the power of the Eye to slow the Asgardian down, and ran. 

 

“You won’t get away that easily, you pathetic mortal.” Loki pinched the space between them with the Tesseract. He appeared right behind Strange, one arm wrapped around the magician’s waist, the other held a blade to his throat. Dr. Strange again pulled on the Eye. Maybe he could roll time back? Loki used the Tesseract to warp the space around the two magic users at the same moment. And…  

 

Blue and green powers swirled around the pair as they struggled. A vortex of turquoise plasma surrounded them, a hurricane of infinite power.

 

And they vanished. 

 


	2. Earth 1218

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Dr. Strange find themselves in one of the strangest places they've ever been. London.

 

Stephen opened his eyes. He wasn’t in his sanctum or in the depths of space. Instead he saw a pleasant outdoor cafe in a city. Strategically placed plants and statuary blocked the table from view of the street, but this appeared to be a very nice restaurant in… London? Yes, London, given the large red double decker bus driving by.  _ This is different. _ He looked around and his eyes lit  on the man sitting across the table from him. Short, curling dark blond hair, glasses, beard, eyes closed, elegant high end casual clothing. Handsome enough. He looked like he might be asleep? Looked familiar… 

 

The other man’s eyes snapped open, and the relaxed expression of sleep transformed into one of wariness and suspicion. Blue eyes glanced around the area then settled on Strange. He leaned forward, his eyes transformed from clear blue to gray-green, and a glare came over the aristocratic features.  

 

_ Minus the beard, make the hair black. Shit. _

 

“Strange, what did you do?” Loki snapped out of the stranger’s mouth. “Why do you look different? Where are we?” 

 

“I had nothing to do with this,” the magician replied. “You look pretty different yourself.” To Strange’s own ears, his voice sounded perfectly normal

 

Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is as if I were talking to Thor. Am I wearing spectacles?” He took the glasses off and looked at them. “I even appear to need them. Outrageous.” The god replace the eyewear, then ran a hand down his jaw. “And a beard. Unacceptable. This is clearly your fault.” 

 

“What’s the logic behind that?” 

 

Loki leaned back, arms crossed over his chest and glared. “I was not responsible for it.” 

 

Dr. Strange snorted. 

 

“You should consider coloring your hair. It looks much better without the white.” 

 

“Are you seriously giving me fashion advice?” 

 

Loki raised an eyebrow and gestured with an elegant splay of his fingers. “You so clearly need it.” 

 

Strange looked down at himself to see if Loki was referring to his current body specifically. The pale blue dress shirt and black slack he wore were fairly innocuous, so it must be personal comment. “We should concentrate on getting back rather than insulting each other.” 

 

Loki sneered. “I hardly need your help,  _ apprentice.” _

 

“I wasn’t responsible for this, mischief maker.” Dr. Strange leaned forward and pointed at the god. “If anything, this has your fingerprints all over it.” 

 

“As if I would inconvenience myself so. This is clearly due to your incompetence.” 

 

Dr. Strange looked down his nose at the god; Loki’s arrogance seemed to sit easily on his host. “It’s more likely a side effect of the Infinity Stones.”  

 

“Even if you are correct, I should be able to trace the lines of power back to my own proper form. Good day, fool.” As Strange looked on, the man in front of him collapsed backwards in his chair, eyes rolling back in his head as Loki abandoned his body. 

 

“Damned gods,” Strange muttered. He debated the wisdom of staying to see if Loki’s host was alright or fleeing to evade detection, but within seconds, the other man came around. Stephen leaned forward. “Are you okay?” 

 

The blond man straightened up in his seat and rubbed his eyes, which were once again a pure blue. “What happened?” His voice sound lighter than Loki’s, but fundamentally the same.  _ Odd. _ Stephen frowned and the other man looked at him with a small frown of his own. “Ben, you alright mate?” 

 

Dr. Strange opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He didn't want to deal with this right now. He nodded to the other man. “‘Scuse me.” He got up and headed further into the restaurant, towards the restroom sign at the back. 

 

The bathroom was swanky, as was to be expected, with insufficient lighting, but it was bright enough to see that the reflection in the mirror was essentially his own. There were cosmetic differences, like the hair - which was pure black rather than streaked with white - but that was  _ his _ face. Maybe a little younger, though he always looked younger without a beard. 

 

But his hands…

 

Stephen was scarcely able to believe what he saw. His hands were... fine. Not the incredibly precise hands of a surgeon, but neither were they damaged. They were unscarred, flexible, sensitive. 

 

Strange curled his fingers into fists and snarled at his reflection. He forced himself to take several deep breaths and drew a sigil in the air. 

 

Nothing happened. 

 

He drew another. Still no result. 

 

No magic. 

 

This wasn’t his body. 

 

He almost pulled out the wallet he felt riding in his back pocket to find out the rest of his host’s name. His hand strayed back, touched the edge of leather there. He could pretend. Just for a little longer. A normal life sat in his back pocket, he only had to grab it. 

 

No. 

 

It was wrong; a misuse of magical powers. This body didn’t belong to him. It was  _ possession. _ Right now he was a mental parasite.

 

Even Loki hadn’t given in to that. 

 

Strange pushed open one of the restroom stalls, leaned against the wall, and released his host. 

And he was gone. 

 

 


	3. Only Lovers Left Alive

 

Loki awoke to the eerie silence that lives in old, abandoned buildings. He sniffed the air. He could detect dozens of small living creatures - none of them important - but their blood sang to him, and he was  _ thirsty. _ The god shivered at the feeling. It felt more like the need for alcohol rather than hunger or thirst, though it resembled both those feelings as well. Loki had gone hungry before, felt his magic drained away by overexertion and torture, even been forcibly drugged by those hoping to control him through addiction. None of it worked; his will was too strong. He could easily ignore a little thirst.

 

Cool air flowed along his bare skin, but it didn’t bother him. Cold never bothered him. Scratchy sheets below, chill air above. Loki rolled to his feet, up and out of a large, elegant bed of aged wood. The sheets, unfortunately scratchy as they were, were black and gray striped. Nothing Loki would ever have picked out for himself. 

 

He stretched, and felt his sluggish body come to life. 

 

Loki looked down at himself. His new self, for this was a different body than the one he wore in the restaurant with Strange. Familiar pale skin, though less muscular than usual. Was he confined? This wasn’t the ship, that was for certain. The air was wrong, the environment unfamiliar. The architecture resembled Agard more than anything else, but still, that was wrong. There was no way that Loki could be back home. 

 

A quick glance up told him that his hair was the proper color, though the texture felt odd under his fingers. An experimental sweep along the jaw revealed a small amount of stubble, but no beard like the last body. Loki ran his hands over the rest of his face and felt all the familiar contours and angles. 

 

All he could see of himself looked the same. His face  _ felt  _ the same, hair notwithstanding. 

 

_ Very odd. _

 

Loki looked around for a mirror, but there were none in the bedroom. He found wardrobe filled with Midgardian style clothing. It was uniformly black - or at least dark - save for some flimsy mint green affair to one side. 

 

_ Useless. _

 

Loki grabbed a striped dressing gown from beside the door as he left the room. He would  _ not _ wander around naked, especially in an unfamiliar environment. 

 

Outside of the bedroom he found the small bathing chamber, but it appeared to be used for storage. The tub was full of myriad strange items, which was the only way he knew that it had ever been a bathing room. There was no sink, no toilet. And still no mirror. 

 

He explored the rest of the house. He found more Midgardian musical instruments than he’d ever seen before, various pieces of unfamiliar electronic equipment, a rather unusual kitchen set up as a laboratory of some kind, and a fair amount of beautiful well used furniture. There was not a single reflective surface in the house, save for the windows which showed a dark neglected street. 

 

_ Very odd. _

 

Loki retreated to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached for his seidr, but failed. His lip curled in disgust. 

 

“Useless.” 

 

Was there magic in this body? It was possible that there was a power alien to his own. Loki sunk deep into the form; felt the corners and crannies of this creatures body and mind. 

 

Enhanced senses, reflexes, speed. Superior even to an Aesir or Jotunn, let alone a mere human. This body was like nothing Loki had ever seen. And oh yes there  _ was _ magic, but not of a kind he’d encountered before. It reeked of death and time. Nothing Loki could manipulate, but power nonetheless. 

 

He growled and flopped back onto the bed. Loki could still feel a connection out of this body and to the Tesseract. So he could escape. There was no way he could manipulate the power of this body. Not to get home. 

 

Home, what did that even mean? 

 

Loki pulled on that connection and left this abandoned world behind.

 


	4. Star Trek Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Strange finds himself in a strange new world.

 

Stange opened his eyes.  The space around him was plain white, well lit, and unmistakably a cell.

 

 _Well, this is unhelpful_.

 

He searched his memory; Stephen had seen something like this before, but where? He’d once taken a of a SHIELD base, and this was much like one of the containment cells he’d seen. One of those intended to hold someone of the Hulk or Thor’s strength. Or someone with powerful magical abilities like Loki. Or himself.

 

He hadn’t liked that tour much. It felt too much like a threat.

 

A quick test told him this body had no access to magic. Unfortunate, but not surprising. The mind though… The mind he occupied was intelligent - devilishly so. As he moved Stephen could feel increased physical strength, dexterity, and possibly stamina as well.

 

He was a superbeing. In a cell.

 

A prisoner.

 

Prisoner or not, being in this body felt exhilarating. He wanted to run, to leap into the air as high as his enhanced legs would launch him. He wondered if Captain America felt like this, like he could do anything. The excess energy coiled in his chest like a spring. Strange wanted to smash through the walls of the prison and run free, just to see if he could. To see how far he could get before whoever put his host in this cell could catch him.

 

Instead, he paced.  

 

Stephen ran a hand over his face to get a feel for his features since there weren’t any reflective surfaces in the cell. His features were the same on the outside, even if this body felt very different from the inside. He couldn’t _see_ his hair, but it felt shorter than his own, and he was beardless. Cosmetically similar, if not identical. The same structure, even the systems were different.

 

It was an odd feeling.

 

Strange turned his attention from this new - marvelous - body to the surroundings. Other than the vague resemblance to a SHIELD facility, he didn’t recognise any of it. Glass or plastic walls on either side - or maybe a force field - an oval of white surrounding. Black benches on either side that could be used for sleep.

 

Maybe he was on an alien world? No, his enhances senses felt a subtle vibration. A ship, or possibly a space station. Stephen knew that there were other inhabited planets out there, but one where a superpowered doppelganger existed? Anything was possible...

 

Whatever this place was, it wasn’t home. And as fun as it might be to be the next Captain America, it seemed more likely that he was actually a bit more like the Winter Soldier - given the cell - but with no Cap in his corner.

 

He heard voices coming closer, and looked up to see several people in colorful uniforms approaching his cell. They’d want to question their prisoner. Stephen bit his lip. He _could_ carefully explain that he was not their prisoner and was in fact a magician from Earth - but not _their_ Earth - and they should just let him out and he’d be on his way…  

 

 _Nope. Not gonna happen._ As much as he was enjoying the extra power of this body - and he really really was - Stephen let go.

 

His astral form retreated along the line to his body by the power of the Eye. 

 


	5. Earth 1218

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot doesn't so much thicken as appear.

 

When Strange came back to himself this time, he was sitting on a couch. A fairly comfy couch at that. A quick glance at his clothes and a hand run over his face confirmed that he appeared to be the same as before. Stephen looked up and saw the same blond man from before - the one who looked remarkably like Loki - pacing the far end of the room. They were in the living room of a fairly nice open-concept apartment; overstuffed bookshelves lined the walls, and everything was of good quality, but not extravagant. 

 

Stephen tried to get a read on the other to see if Loki was riding the other man or not, but it was hard to say from this distance. He pulled himself upright and cleared his throat. The other man snapped to attention, pale gaze sweeping across the room to where Strange sat. He spun in place and approached the couch. Gray-green eyes and the tense overbearing posture told Strange that Loki was indeed in control. 

 

Loki loomed over him, a scowl deeply etched onto his face.

 

Stephen straightened his spine. “What do you want, Loki?”

 

“I want to get away from this nightmare imitation of Midgard.”  

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“This is not our world, Strange, we don’t exist here.” Loki paced over to a tall butcher block breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and waved at an open laptop computer. “We are  _ fictional _ .” He spat the word out like a curse. 

 

Strange stood and walked over to stand a cautious distance from Loki. He looked over the god’s shoulder - sparing a brief moment to wonder at the Asgardian’s ability to use a computer - then started when he saw the images on the screen The pictures showed the two of them - Loki and Strange himself - in situations no photographer could ever have captured. One image showed Strange when he first glimpsed the Eye of Agamotto. Another displayed their face off in the New York Sanctum

 

Stephen frowned and leaned in. “What on Earth?” 

 

“Another Earth, perhaps.” 

 

“Come again?”

 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Your master was derelict in her teachings if you learned nothing of the other worlds.”

 

“How do you know about my master? Yes, of course we did.” Strange glared at the god. 

 

“Then it should be obvious.” 

 

“You think this is a parallel universe? I’ve never heard of anything being this… this close. All of the ones I’ve seen have been… weird.”

 

Loki sighed. “Useless Midgardian magicians. Put very simply,” and his tone implied it had be put  _ extremely _ simply, “there are  _ infinite _ universes in existence where every possibility is a reality. Not only ones where reality is beyond mortal comprehension, “weird” as you put it. Many of these realities would be made different only by a single choice or happenstance. So there would be one where I am still king of Asgard and one where you are still a neurosurgeon.”

 

Strange quirked an eyebrow at that. “And one where we only exist as fictional characters?” 

 

“Apparently.” 

 

“But I went somewhere where I was someone completely different. Somehow my magical potential had been used to create some kind of super soldier.”

 

“Another universe.” Loki waved a hand. “I had a similar experience, though my body appeared to be some kind of death-time creature which craved blood.”

 

“A vampire?”

 

Loki responded with an elegant lift and drop of his shoulders. 

 

“I wonder if it was the same universe.” 

 

Loki shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter. It was not our own.” 

 

Dr Strange rubbed his chin in absence of his goatee. “But why we do we keep coming back to this one?”

 

“Coincidence.” Loki turned to the laptop and slammed it shut. “Assuming this even is the same universe. It could be one so similar that it cannot be differentiated.” 

 

Strange shook his head. “In my experience there are no such things as coincidences. There’s gotta be something to this place that’s important.” 

 

Loki curled his lip in disgust. “I refused to believe that being  _ fictional _ is important.” 

 

“Fine, ignore me. Good luck getting out on your own, asshole.” Stephen fled his current body, not caring how it fell. 

 

Loki looked down at the fallen human and shook his head. “Idiot.” 

 


	6. Sherlock

 

Dr. Strange awoke. 

 

He was in bed. Not his own bed -  _ of course not _ \-  but a double bed with a solid wooden frame. His brain scrambled for the correct term. _ Sleigh bed.  _ Something Christine had liked, but he’d discarded as too old fashioned. Stephen flinched away from the memory of that long ago argument and the woman he’d left behind. 

 

So he looked around. There was only the sign of one person living in this room, things on one side of the bed, not the other. One water glass, one phone. So at least he shouldn’t expect someone to walk in. The room appeared fairly normal. Bureau, tables, lamps. None of the furniture matched, but it was all decent quality. Doors, window. Boring. He spied a mirror. 

 

Stephen got up and glanced down at himself. He was naked. Slim as he had been as a younger man. Scars - many scars - but, not his own. The reflection in the mirror was himself, but a decade or so younger. Fluffy dark hair rumpled by sleep, gray eyes unlined by age, five o’clock shadow. He reflexively stretched his hands and felt much of the same sensitivity he had before the accident. 

 

He ran a thumb across his fingers. There were calluses on the tips - like a musician would have - but the scrapes, scars, and acid stains on the skin spoke of someone who was not so careful, not like a professional. The scars over the rest of his form told the same story. These weren’t from a single accident. This body belong to someone who was careless of their physical form or had a taste for danger. Or both. 

 

Stephen sat on the bed and sighed. He reached for magic as he had before. For a moment he thought there was none, but no. There was something there, it just took a moment to find it.  The magic  _ was _ there, but it had been changed. Turned inwards. The owner of this body had taken its magical potential and used it to enhance the mind much like it could be used to manipulate a limb. He could sense ramparts and walls around that mind; a palace of genius locked away behind a fortress of defenses.

 

“Who are you?”

 

Dr. Strange jumped. The voice came from inside his head. Okay, it wasn't actually  _ his _ head… 

 

“Either I've finally gone mad, I took a large number of drugs and don't recall, I’m ill enough to be hallucinating, or there's someone else in my mind.” 

 

The voice was clipped, precise, British, but his. 

 

Stephen closed his eyes and focused inward. 

 

The mindscape looked like a cluttered living room filled with mismatched furniture, much like the bedroom. In the center of the crowded room stood the owner of this body, his overly thin frame clad in black pants and deep purple button down shirt. The other’s hands were tucked into his pockets as his pale gray eyes swept over Stephen with a calculating gaze. 

 

“Are you me from the future?” 

 

Strange raised an eyebrow. “No, why would you think that?”

 

“Your hair.” The other ran a finger through his own hair where Strange’s white streaks were. “But you’re American. Recently in Tibet - or was it Napal? I’ve thought of going to that region myself. Interesting place.” The younger man paced around Stephen slowly. “Major surgery, sorry, surgeries, two years ago? Yes, the most recent two years ago. Nerve damage to the hands. Spurred you to join some obscure religion in search of a cure. Did it help?” 

 

“I wouldn’t call it a religion.” 

 

“Of course not.” Gray eyes flitted over him again. “You used to be a medical man, but now… hmm.” The young man frowned. “I find myself doubting my hallucinating senses.” 

 

Stephen found himself in the same position.  _ How can he be… modern?  _  “You… I know who you are.” 

 

“Do you? Well I am famous in some circles.” The young man preened slightly. 

 

“He said we were fictional. It stands to reason that where we go might be fictional, too,” Dr. Strange muttered. 

 

“What are you talking about?” 

 

“You’re Sherlock Holmes, right?”

 

“Obviously.” 

 

“Dr. Stephen Strange.” 

 

“Surgeon?” 

 

“Neurosurgeon.” 

 

“Even better.” Sherlock rubbed his hands together. “What happened? Accident? Of course. Something that was your fault, I’m sure. Distracted by your own brilliance, just long enough to… spin off the road? An automobile accident, yes. At least you only injured yourself.”

 

“You are an awful person,” Strange spat. 

 

“It’s much easier to observe our faults in others than it is in ourselves.” 

 

Strange glared at the younger man. “I’m nothing like you.” 

 

“Ah, but you are.” The younger man grinned and paced around him again. “Surgeons are the fifth most likely profession to have sociopaths. Possessing no empathy for your patient is a good thing, is it not?” 

 

“And you’re a sociopath.” 

 

“Close. Self-identified high functioning sociopath.” 

 

_ Two can play at this game. _ “Some sort of childhood trauma? Abusive family? At least emotionally distant. Domineering older sibling. And some sort of event or events that made you feel like it was better to pull away from people rather than risk being hurt by attachment and emotion? Resulting in self destructive behaviors, exacerbated by a well above average IQ, a perfect memory and extreme feelings of detachment from society at large.” 

 

The two men glared at one another. 

 

“Tell me doctor, do you have any friends?” 

 

“Not many. You?”

 

“One or two.” 

 

Dr. Strange smiled. “Try and keep him.” 

 

Sherlock’s eyebrows flew up. 

 

_ Ha, I knew he had to have a Watson!  _ “You’d miss him if he was gone. Believe me.”

 

“How…” 

 

Strange saw Sherlock’s defenses rise up. He likely kept them up all the time.  _ I can relate _ . 

 

He also saw, in the other’s face when Sherlock let them go. Perhaps it was because the two of them were so similar, and they both felt it. Perhaps it was because this whole conversation was happening inside Sherlock’s mind. Either way, as he continued to speak, Strange knew that he was telling the truth, and that he had never admitted this to another person.

 

“Never mind,” Sherlock shook his head and continued, willing to dismiss Strange’s deductive leap - and insight - as he would his own. “I know I’d miss him. I do try, I just don’t really know how.” 

 

“Keep trying. Try harder.”  

 

“You lost yours?” 

 

“She left me.” Strange tried to keep the pain from his voice. It didn’t work.

 

“It isn’t like  _ that _ …” 

 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re sexually involved or not, you still need him,” Stephen snapped.  

 

Sherlock looked away, fidgeted with his shirt cuffs. “I know.” 

 

“So take care of him. Do better. Needing others doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger. It makes them stronger too. You can do the things they can’t.” 

 

The younger man looked up, eyes clear and determined. “That I can do.” 

 

Strange nodded. 

 

“You’re sure you’re not me from the future faking an American accent?”

 

“If I was, do you think I’d tell you?”

 

“No.”

 

Stephen smiled. “Well there you go.” 

 

“Who are you then?”

 

“I’m a magician from another universe just trying to get home.” 

 

Sherlock laughed. “There are more things in heaven and earth.” 

 

“Exactly.” 

 

Strange pulled on his tie to his body and the Eye and left. 


	7. High-Rise

 

Loki inhaled deeply and opened his eyes. The scents of alcohol, tobacco, and sex drifted on the air. Unlike his previous hosts on the strange journey, this one didn’t collapse, he merely paused as he walked. Loki glanced down, took in the odd white Midgardian clothing he wore, ran a hand through his hair and along his jaw. Short hair, even shorter than his first host’s, but the same face - his own - properly clean shaven.  _ Finally. _

 

Loki smiled. 

 

He walked down a long corridor, alien, simple. Windowless with many doors. A spacecraft? No. There was no vibration. No movement beneath his feet. The space looked more like “apartment buildings” he’d encountered in New York more than anything. 

 

There were other people about. He met the eyes of the strangers in the hallway who nodded politely, but didn’t engage. They seemed wary, but not  _ entirely  _ untrusting. That was a pleasant change. But the wariness, that was odd. This situation was familiar, unlike the odd Midgardian building. Loki searched his memory as he walked, to try to get a feel for the place. It was like a town expecting an attack, but not yet under siege. Tensions were high, the people on edge, he could feel it, the chaos just under the surface. And like any extreme situation, it could so easily topple into mayhem. 

 

Loki grinned. 

 

He took a moment to see if he could pull any seidr to himself. This body had a taste of chaos to it; a natural proclivity that most likely resulted in too high of an alcohol intake and bad relationship choices - possibly an outre lifestyle according to his peers. Loki savored the sweet flavor of discord in the mortal.  It would allow him to see just a little more in this world that he otherwise might. He was the God of Chaos, after all. Loki cast his senses outwards.

 

_ There _ . 

 

A source of power just beyond that door. Not magic, but the kind of energy mortals used for their everyday needs. Loki slipped into the small room, studied the mechanism for a moment, and pulled a large lever... 

 

Everything went dark. 

 

Loki chuckled quietly, sprinted out of the room and down the nearby staircase. He saw a man descending the stairs, so he crept up behind him and shoved. The man tumbled the last few steps. The man swore at him, unhurt, just disoriented and annoyed. 

 

The next floor was open but heavily crowded. With expertise of centuries, Loki made his way through the mob unseen, but not unfelt. He riled up the group with sharp elbows and heavy footsteps on vulnerable toes. 

 

An unfamiliar scent drew him to the far side of the open area. He heard lapping water, but not quite a lake or a fountain. More like public baths, but larger. Loki stumbled into something soft. There was a yelp and a loud splash. Alarmed, Loki fled the toxic-smelling room. 

 

After a long sprint, he found himself in a room full of undersized furniture. Loki perched in one of the chairs and steadied his host body. Using their natural affinity he reached into his host’s mind and implanted a memory.  _ You’ve been here the whole time _ . It might do a  _ little _ damage, but it would be better than wondering where he was during the blackout. 

 

He hadn’t done anything that wouldn’t have happened on its own, it would just happen a bit more... _ enthusiastically _ . Loki vacated the form, wishing he could’ve see the lovely chaos he’d left in his wake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene is based on the original novel of High Rise rather than the movie adaptation. In the novel Robert spends the initial blackout in a classroom on the same floor as all the excitement rather than trapped in elevator. I like the book better, though it does lack a virtually naked Tom. 
> 
> If you like audiobooks,Tom Hiddleston’s reading of the novel is fantastic.


	8. Earth 1218

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter, but I offer you three for one.

 

Dr. Strange found himself back in the same living room as before, leaning casually on the butcher block breakfast bar. After his last few ventures, he was disappointed to return to a “normal” human body.

 

Loki’s host sprawled elegantly over the couch, seemingly asleep. Stephen wondered who had sprawled - Loki or the host - and if that innate grace was something they had in common. As much as the trickster irritated him - and how  _ incredibly _ dangerous he was - Strange had to admit that the god had a kind of magnificence when he wasn’t in a psychotic frenzy. Hell, even when he  _ was _ trying to kill everyone in sight, the god of mischief still possessed a certain savoir faire. Stephen thought he might actually like the guy, in that asshole friend kind of way. 

 

The blond on the couch stirred, stretching like a cat, taking up twice as much space as seemed possible. He stood up and pulled his shirt back down from where it had ridden up during the stretch. Strange could tell from the the rigid posture and suspicious gray-green eyes that Loki was in residence. 

 

“No luck?” 

 

“None.” Loki pushed up his glasses with a sharp shove. “Where did you go?” 

 

“I think I was Sherlock Holmes.”

 

“Who?”

 

Dr. Strange shook his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. What about you?”

 

“I don't know where I was, though it did not feel like ‘now’.” The god shrugged. “I am unfamiliar with Midgard’s recent history.” 

 

“Hmm.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I thought you’d be a history buff.”

 

Loki glared at him. “The last time I was in your miserable realm - barring a few years ago - was many centuries ago. Why would I care about your useless realm's pitiful recent history?” 

 

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the couch?”

 

“I do not understand what you mean.” 

 

“You’re being really irritable.” 

 

Loki glared. “I am tired of this situation, mortal. I would like to return to what is left of my home.”

 

“What’s left… what do you mean? What happened to Asgard?” 

 

The god glared again and went back to the couch, flopping down into a sitting position. “It is not your concern.” 

 

“What happened? Is Thor okay?”

 

Green spiked in Loki’s eyes and his lip curled. He continued his poisonous scowl for a moment.  Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was gone.

 

“Dammit Loki!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter has a **MAJOR SPOILER WARNING** for “Crimson Peak”. If you have not seen the film and intend to, skip ahead to chapter 10. Or go watch the movie first. Please also note new tags.


	9. Crimson Peak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, major spoiler warning for "Crimson Peak". YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. If you haven’t seen the movie, this chapter will ruin it for you. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Please also note trigger warnings posted in the end notes.

 

Loki was exhausted. He’d left that pitiful excuse for Midgard too soon.  _ Damn Strange. Why did he have to bring up the one thing I don’t want to talk about? _ His body felt leaden, abstracted. All he wanted to do was sleep. 

 

“Brother?” 

 

_ Thor? _ The voice was distant, like it came from the bottom of a well. Only the words were clear.  _ Am I finally home? Is that why I feel like this? _

 

“Brother, wake up.” A weight settled onto his lap, fingers running through his hair. 

 

_ Not now Thor, too tired.  _

 

Insistent lips claimed his, imperiously demanding his attention. The hand in his hair constrained as it caressed. Giving in to the inevitable, Loki kissed back, tangling lips and tongue with those above. His hands come up of the their own volition, caressing the long hair that flowed around him to brush his face and chest. Reaching out to the warm skin of neck and shoulders with sensitive fingertips.

 

It took a few seconds to register that something was very, very wrong. 

 

Instead of hard planes of muscle under his hands and the scruff of beard against his face, there was feminine softness. Petite but adamant hands stroked his chest and face, not ones larger than his own. Loki opened his eyes to see icy blue eyes surrounded by long streams of dark hair. 

 

Loki froze. 

 

For a horrible moment, he thought Thor’s sister had taken his brother’s place. It was not Hela, but her eyes… those frozen azure orbs brimmed with the same madness. 

 

Her voice - now that he can clear it clearly - was sweet, dark, wicked. “My darling brother, is something wrong?” 

 

_ I am not your brother, let me go back to mine! _

 

“No, of course not.” The lie tripped easily from Loki’s silver tongue and he smiled in what  _ should _ a winning manner. His mind raced. Loki reached for the link to his human host’s body, but he felt too weak to leave. He could  _ not _ pretend to be this woman’s lover; such intimacies were difficult to counterfeit, even if he wanted to. Nor could he talk his way out of this. Whoever this was she had the bearing of a goddess and would not be denied. She smiled down at him and leaned in for another kiss. 

 

Loki’s consciousness scrabbled away, frantically trying to escape as soft lips burned his own. He found himself burrowing into his host’s mind. Down and down and  _ away. _

 

Once inside, he was finally free of the witch’s grasp, but this place was hardly better. Loki fled through the empty dilapidated corridors of his host’s mindscape, hardly knowing what he was running from. The halls appeared partially of Asgard, partially of Midgard; full of death, betrayal, fear, pain. Their hatred battered Loki from the very walls, bled up through floor. A nightmare of pain, rejection, and terror. 

 

A blow struck the god from behind and knocked him down to the crimson-stained floor.  A heavy boot pressed into his back. 

 

It was Odin who came now to finally break him entirely. Loki knew this, in the logic of dreams. He howled in agony as his dead not-father crushed him. His own sobs echoed in his defeated ears. 

 

A bolt of lightning struck. A woman screamed. The sounds shrieked through him. The pressure on his back stopped, and Loki looked up. Above him stood Thor, his powerful arms crossed to block the Allfather’s next strike. A bolt of the Thunderer’s power crackled from the open sky to Mjolnir, then to Odin. Thor was protecting him, just like he used to so long ago. Thor even looked like he did before… before... 

 

A startled cry from nearby grabbed Loki’s attention from his brother to the sound’s origin. 

 

Sprawled on the floor in an identical position was a man as interchangeable with himself as one of his own illusions. The other stared at Loki in shock and disbelief. Above him stood the woman from the bedroom, the sister, but she was young. So young, not even yet a woman by human standards. She was frozen in a position that mirrored Thor’s. An older man stood behind her, swinging a heavy black cane onto her back. The family in frozen, horrible tableaux. 

 

The man who looked so much like Loki spoke. “Who are you?”  

 

“Loki of Asgard. And you?”

 

“Thomas Sharpe.” 

 

Loki crawled out from under Thor’s bulk and Thomas did the same. The two approached each other like warry cats scenting a new potential rival. 

 

Thomas’s eyes flowed over Loki’s face, his own brows drawn down. “Why do you look like me?” 

 

“Are you a man of science, Thomas?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Then it would be useless to try and explain.”. 

 

“Magic then.” 

 

Loki smiled. “Yes.” 

 

The pair circled one another slowly. Thomas looked over at Thor and Odin. “Who is your protector?”

 

“My brother.” 

 

“Ah. And the attacker is your father.” It was not a question.

 

“I am adopted, but yes.” 

 

“He beat you for it?” 

 

“Metaphorically speaking,” Loki replied with a thin smile. 

 

“You’re adopted, but you still think of him as your brother.” Thomas nodded to Thor. 

 

“Yes. However  _ inappropriate _ it may be.” Loki’s eyes flicked over to Thomas’s family with a knowing smile. 

 

“Ah.” 

 

Loki was intrigued to see no guilt or shame in Thomas’ eyes, just recognition, perhaps a touch of shock. Perhaps because someone had seen him for what he was; or maybe because the god’s lover was a man.

 

“Do you think it odd?”

 

“To love your protector? No.” The mortal looked to his sister and smiled.  

 

“You realize she’s insane, do you not?”

 

“Yes, but she is my everything.” His eyes traveled over the agonized figure of the young woman. “She has cared for me my whole life, kept me safe, loved me as no one else could. She is my goddess.” 

 

“I understand,” Loki said. And he did. If somehow Hela had been his protector instead of Thor, he could have gladly sat at the dark goddess’s feet. She would have seen the darkness inside of him a cherished it, built him up to be strong, not a pale moon to Thor’s Sun. But he would not be himself; he would be her shadow. And that’s what Thomas was: the shadow of an insane goddess. 

 

Unwanted and unloved as that lone moon might be, it was its own body and it did shine. 

 

He took a few quick steps and reached his doppleganger’s side, taking his hand. “Thomas, it is not well to have another be the center of your universe. He is my Sun, but stars and gods do die. It is best to pull away before you are burned.”

 

Thomas’ clear blue eyes searched Loki’s green ones. “Do you try to convince me or yourself?” 

 

“Both of us, I believe,” Loki admitted. 

 

Thomas smiled and gave a small shrug. “This is my life.”

 

Loki searched the mortal’s face, a mirror to his own. “You are… content?”

 

“Yes. Are you?”

 

Loki closed his eyes and turned away from the purity of the mortal’s countinance. 

 

“That’s what I thought.” Thomas pulled Loki back, forcing the other to meet his gaze with an all too gentle hand. “Go back to your Sun. You will be happier for it.” 

 

The god shook his head. “I cannot.” 

 

“Cannot or will not?” 

 

“I fear I am more like your sister than I am like you, mortal. My Sun pushed me free long ago.” 

 

“Oh.” Loki watches Thomas’ face as he considered this, and tears gathered in his strangely innocent blue eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

 

Loki bowed his head. “I thank you. It…” he looked up. “It is well to speak of it with someone who understands.” 

 

Thomas nodded. “It is a hard love.” 

 

“Indeed.”

 

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Loki spoke up. 

 

“I will go now, but please think on what I have said. Think of yourself.” 

 

Thomas shook his head. “She is all I have, all I am, Loki. I am hers forever. Even if she drove me away, I would still be hers.” 

 

Sadly Loki nodded. “I understand, truly. I wish you luck.” 

 

“Goodbye.”

 

“Farewell.” 

 

Loki fled. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for: dubcon/non con, sibling incest, implied violence against children.


	10. The Hobbit

 

Dr. Strange felt as though he weighed a thousand tons. The idea of lifting a single finger sounded exhausting; the air around him was so cold. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep and sleep and...

 

Something dug uncomfortably into his side, keeping morpheus at bay. He shifted slightly and heard a sound like a thousand chandeliers crashing to a marble floor. Stephen slowly opened his eyes to see what made the sound. Flickering golden light surrounded him, with deep, full darkness above. 

 

_ Beautiful. _

 

Lethargy washed over him again. His limbs hung heavy at his sides. 

 

_ Limbs. Too many. Four. Five. Six. Seven? _

 

Stephen realized he had a tail. And wings. The shock was enough the shake him from his torpor.  

 

Gold objects slid everywhere as he rose up to look down at this strange body. Scales, claws, membranous wings, a long sinuous tail, all the color of old pennies. He swept the tail across the floor and knocked over piles of ornaments. With strangely acute eyes, he scanned the glittering objects until he caught sight of a small mirror. He lifted it up with dextrous claws and peered into the shiny surface. The mirror was far too small to reflect his now-massive form, but he caught glimpses of a scaled face, fanged jaw and a fiery reptilian eye. 

 

“Dragon.” 

 

The word echoed through the cavern.  _ Dragon dragon agon gon…  _

 

For the first time in this whole misbegotten adventure, Dr. Strange did not recognize the sound of his own voice. The dragon’s tone was so deep and hoarse that it seemed impossible that a human could make a noise anything like it. 

 

Of course, right now he wasn’t human. 

 

Stephen stood on all four feet and stretched, unfurled his wings, lashed his tail. He sniffed the air experimentally and followed the scent of “outside” until he found the exit. He clambered through the maw of the cavern into the deep black night. 

 

Strange launched himself into the air and euphoria filled his chest, his mind, tingled along his scales. The feel of the wind against his flesh, the air supporting his wings as they pushed him up beyond the clouds. It was like nothing he’d ever felt, this amazing power of flight. It was better than slamming down the pedal on his Mercedes, better than skydiving, better than any of the other so called “extreme sports” he’d tried. The only thing that was in the same league was magic. 

 

Magic. 

 

He had to go back.  

 

With a sigh of regret that came out as a roar, Stephen circled back to the cave. The dragon’s instincts told him where to go.  _ Home. _

 

But not his home. 

 

Strange freewheeled through the sky; he was going to make the most of the trip back to the golden hoard. 

 

Reluctantly he returned to the still-warm spot where he’d been sleeping before and curled into a comfortable position. Placed his massive head on a pile of gold coins, closed his eyes and followed the line back to his tiny, far-too-human host body. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter. Apologies. Chapter 9 is the meatiest, but like River's hair, is full of spoilers. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been coming along with me on this!


	11. Earth 1218

 

Loki felt warm fingers at the side of his neck and a soft hand on his shoulder. He tried to jerk away and slap the hand at his throat, but his body wouldn’t respond. The hand on his neck slid up to cup his jaw and he felt a thumb slide across the line where beard met hairless skin. 

 

_ Why must people keep molesting me in my sleep? _

 

Loki uttered a small irritated noise and the hand pulled away from his face. Instead it came down on his shoulder and shook him gently. 

 

“Tom, wake up.” 

 

Dr. Strange’s voice was speaking to him, but it wasn’t quite right. Loki opened his eyes carefully. 

 

“Hey, there you are.” The Strange lookalike smiled down at him. 

 

Accent; that’s what was wrong. This man almost sounded Asgardian, rather than the flat Midgardian tone that Thor’s idiot friends and Dr. Strange shared. 

 

“You alright?” 

 

Loki nodded. He didn’t trust his abilities to fool this mortal into thinking he was his friend - lover, colleague, whatever - without more information.  _ Damn, when is Strange getting back? _

 

“Do you want some water?” 

 

The god nodded again since that seemed safe and watched as the other man went into the kitchen, studying his movements. He went to the cabinets, hesitating slightly before he opened one with glasses in it, and filled it at the tap. So this was Loki’s host’s home, and this other mortal was here often, but didn’t live here. Useful. 

 

The mortal returned a moment later and Loki took the proffered water. He sipped it slowly while “his” friend looked on anxiously. 

 

“Why does this keep happening? Do you think it could be food poisoning?” the other asked.

 

“What?” Loki asked before he could stop himself. 

 

Apparently this was a reasonable reaction, and nothing about the way he talked seemed odd. “Well, you know, it all started at the cafe.” 

 

Loki gave a slow nod. “Did you see anything?”  

 

The dark haired man who looked so much like his rival magician shook his head. “When I came to, I was on the floor and you were collapsed on the sofa.” 

 

Loki had sat down before his last escape attempt, so it appeared he hadn’t moved. “I feel a bit dizzy. Did you feel like that?” He didn’t feel dizzy. 

 

“No, just confused. Like I didn’t know where I was for a moment.” 

 

“Ah.” 

 

“What about you?”

 

Loki wished he’d done more research. “Dizzy and confused.” He also wished Strange would get his idiot mortal arse back here. Unless he’d managed to get back to their universe and left Loki behind, stranded in this awful place.

 

The god sprang to his feet, a snarl forming on his lips.

 

“Be careful,” the other man exclaimed holding his arms out as if Loki might collapse at any moment. “We don’t want you fainting again.” 

 

The god scowled. 

 

“Don’t give me that look, you know it’s a bad idea to stand up quickly if you’re dizzy.” 

 

Loki glared. 

 

“Don’t give me the prince of darkness ‘kneel’ look either, or I just might,” came the unexpected reply. 

 

Loki’s eyebrows made a slow journey upwards. “Is that so?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

 

The other man blanched. “Oh don’t do this to me. Don’t go all Loki on me, I can’t deal with it.”   

 

Loki grinned, taking a step closer. “I believe you started this one.” 

 

“Tom, please.” The other closed his eyes, turning away.

 

_ Very interesting. _ “Please what?” he purred. 

 

“Please stop this. Stop... bleeding.” 

 

_ Bleeding?  _  “Is that really what you want?” He took another step, reaching out a long hand to the other, fingers spread.  

 

The Strange lookalike turned completely away and shuddered. 

 

_ This is more fun than I’ve had in ages. _ “Am I making you... uncomfortable?” Another step. 

 

“Please.”

 

Loki chuckled deep in his chest. 

 

The other man swayed slightly and took another step away. “Loki, what are you doing to my host?” 

 

The god of mischief laughed, posture relaxing. “Nothing.” 

 

“I doubt that.” Dr Strange turned to glared at him. “There’s nothing to be gained by tormenting these people while we’re stuck here.” 

 

“Tormenting?” Loki affected a wide eyed, innocent look. “I was just talking to him.” 

 

“God of lies, you can do a lot of damage with your tongue.” 

 

Loki gave Stephen’s host a long, lingering look. “Somehow I do not think my words were what he was thinking about when it came to my tongue.” His eyes snapped back to up to Strange’s face and he grinned. 

 

Strange blushed, all too aware of the host’s discomfort, which was now his. However his general annoyance with Loki was doing wonders to counteract that. “Loki…”

 

“Fine.” The god turned away. “What took you so long? If you had returned sooner, perhaps I wouldn’t have gotten bored.” 

 

“I was a dragon.” 

 

Loki looked back. “You were a dragon.”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“That is… unexpected.” 

 

Dr. Strange laughed. “You could say that.” 

 

“This shines a new light on things. Before this, our bodies have been the point of continuity.” 

 

“That, and being alone,” Strange agreed.

 

“I was not alone in my last excursion.”  _ Unfortunately. _

 

“I bet that confused some people.” 

 

“Please, I am hardly inept, even deprived of seidr.” 

 

The human magician rolled his eyes. “I still think it’s important that we keep coming back here.”

 

“As much as it pains me to do so, I must agree with you.” Loki went to the laptop. “Perhaps more research is in order?” 

 

Dr. Strange refrained from preening or saying ‘I told you so’ to further irritate the god. “What do you suggest?” 

 

“We need to know who these men are.” He tapped his chest. “They look like us, as have those I have encountered. It must be relevant.” 

 

Stephen nodded and took the wallet out of his back pocket. He blinked at the name on the driver’s licence. “Oookaaay.” 

 

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. Strange flipped the wallet so the god could see the name; the trickster’s lips twitched. “By the Norns, I hope for his sake he has a nickname.” 

 

Stephen stifled a laugh as Loki typed the name into computer from memory. “He does,” Strange replied, recalling the conversation from the cafe. “It’s Ben.” 

 

“That is good to know. My host is ‘Tom’, apparently.” He typed some more. “There you are.” Loki tapped the screen. 

 

“There I am indeed. That’s pretty unsettling.” 

 

“So it is.” 

 

Strange watch as Loki tapped the track pad and a video appeared on screen and began to play. It was the actor who played Strange himself in a recent movie, front and center.

 

“What about you?”

 

Loki typed for a moment, and pulled up scores of similar videos with his own counterpart. 

 

“Shit.” 

 

“It appears he is rather popular.” Loki crossed his arms, head cocked to the side, not sure if he should be pleased. “What is Tumblr?” He reached out to the track pad. 

 

Dr. Strange caught his arm. “Don’t!” 

 

Loki glared at the sorcerer.

 

“Seriously, you’ll be scarred for life.” 

 

“Strange, I have ‘spent time’ with Thanos.” 

 

“Do you cherish what’s left of your sanity?” 

 

Loki snorted, but moved his hand away. “Very well, though I fail to see how any mortal invention could threaten my sanity.” 

 

Dr. Strange chuckled. “Don’t look at anything called ‘fanfiction’ either.” 

 

“What?”

 

“The internet is a weird place in our world. It seems like it’s weirder here.” 

 

“Perhaps we should stick to researching our hosts,” Loki suggested, typing a few words. “Look, there. It appears mine did play a vampire in a film.” 

 

“Huh.” 

 

Loki deleted the word “vampire” and typed in “Thomas Sharpe”. 

 

“And this as well.” Loki tapped the screen. “This is where I was last.” 

 

Stephen skimmed the description of the movie, biting his lip in sympathy and distaste. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.” 

 

“No.” Loki’s voice was icy cold. His eyes scanned the screen. “But see here, Strange, I was there  _ before _ this. This blonde girl was not in evidence, I am certain Thomas had not met her.” 

 

“How do you know?”

 

Loki scowled. “It was obvious he had his affections focused elsewhere.” 

 

Strange leaned on the bar, rubbing his chin. “That implies these universes are real and have lives of their own independent of the movies we’re in.” 

 

“Our  _ hosts _ are in.” 

 

“Right right.” The magician waved a lazy hand. “Does that help us though?”

 

“It is… reassuring.” 

 

“Reassuring?” 

 

Loki smiled with just one corner of his mouth. “It means that we are real and not just a figment of some deluded Midgardian’s imagination.” 

 

“Yeah, there is that.” 

 

They both fell quiet for a moment. 

 

“Did you talk to your host somehow?” Strange finally asked.

 

Loki looked up with wide eyes. “In his mind, yes.” 

 

“Huh.” He looked back at the screen. “Is it possible that you influenced him in any way?” 

 

The god gazed out the window for a long moment, then shook his head. “I could not help him. He must have found a Sun strong enough to pull him from the shadows.”

 

Strange raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press Loki further. He walked over to a comfortable looking chair and plopped down, rubbing his hands together. “Ready to try again?”

 

Loki lay back on the couch. “Of course.” 

 


	12. The Imitation Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Historical “medical” treatment of homosexuality. Discussion of suicide.

  
  


 

Stephen sat in a comfortable chair with a crocheted blanket over his lap. The room looked old, like his grandfather’s house. He focused on the details around him; the obsolete electronics, spare furniture, an apple sitting on the nearby table. It was all a distraction, this scrutiny. Anything to avoid focusing on his current body. 

 

It was screaming at him. 

 

He tried to rise from his seat, stumbled, and crashed to his knees. Stephen resisted the urge to vomit as his head swam and bile rose in his throat. Tears stung his eyes and he choked on a sob. What the hell was wrong with him? His chest ached inside and out, and nausea flowed through his veins like poison. 

 

There were drugs in his system. Something awful unlike anything he’d felt before. His skin smelled sickly sweet, and had an unnatural softness. Like… like…

 

He retched, vomiting bile onto the hardwood floor. He looked down at his hands, blinking away tears. They were shaky and knotted. Another wave of disorientation and despair crashed over him. 

 

“Oh god.” Stephen collapsed onto his side. This physical manifestation of mental agony was all too familiar. This body was giving up. It was too abused by whatever drugs had been poured into it, whatever its owner had suffered. 

 

It wanted to die. 

 

There had been times after the accident - before he found the magic - when he’d been this close to ending everything. The pain threatened to consume him. Everything he had been was destroyed, ripped from him by a freak accident. 

 

By his own hubris. 

 

His hands throbbed. 

 

A reminder. 

 

But he had managed to push past the anguish. find a way out that wasn’t  _ the _ way out. This man was so worn down; he was suffering constantly. Every joint ached, soft tissues aflame, waves of untamed emotion raged through the body like a tsunami. There was more though. Stephen could feel it, though he didn’t want to. Unwillingly, he let his awareness flow through the rest of this damaged form. 

 

He rolled onto his back, tears streaming down his face. “Oh god oh god.” He’d been unmanned. Somehow, probably using some chemical method, this poor abused body had been castrated. No wonder he wanted to die. No wonder. Intellectually he had known that such things had been done, were  _ still _ done though blessedly rarely. Based on the look of the room, it was the 40s or maybe early 50s, so likely this man was being punished for a crime that was now considered normal in most of the civilized world. “Cured” by cruel uncomprehending science. He was gay. 

 

This was outrageous. A debasement of medicine. A crime. 

 

Stephen brought his hands up to his face, feeling the soft skin beneath the tears. It was an violation of everything he believed as a doctor. To do such harm to a person for something so slight - so  _ normal _ to his mind - it had to have been a punishment, or a “cure”. Both. Most likely this man was given the choice of imprisonment in a broken “justice” system or  _ this _ . 

 

Dr. Strange lay on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably, weeping for this wretched man, for the travesties that had befallen him, for Strange’s own inability to help. He felt the urge to aid this body in its release from the world, but that was not his call to make. It was always a difficult choice. What caused more harm, a life full of pain or death? Medical ethics were clear, but that was what western medicine said. In some cultures suicide was an honorable choice.

 

But it wasn’t  _ his _ choice to make. That was the most important thing. 

 

He climbed painfully to his feet and sat back into the chair and stared sadly out across the room, releasing the body to its fate. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a fixit for me since I was not happy that this topic wasn't dealt with in "The Imitation Game". Sorry guys. a few lines of text at the end of the movie ain't doing it for one Britain's finest minds who was tortured to death by his own government. Whether Turning committed suicide, was killed (which is a current theory) or died naturally, what was done to him was unconscionable.


	13. Kong Skull Island

 

Loki felt rough bark through the thin fabric of his shirt as he opened his eyes into a twilight lit jungle. This new body was already tense, ready for danger.  _ A warrior, good. _ He looked around, up, listened for danger. A quick shift of muscles told him where about his person this warrior hid his weapons. Knives here and here, firearm there. Good. 

 

A blonde woman in pale Midgardian clothing stood nearby looking at him with expectant eyes. She held no weapons, but had the bearing of a shield maiden. Her eyes flicked to the path ahead of them. Loki listened, then held a finger to his lips. She nodded. 

 

He started forward through the undergrowth, taking care to make no noise, beconning for her to follow. She moved more quietly than he would have expected. A scout perhaps, deprived of her bow or firearm? She’d crept through jungle terrain before, and her gaze told him she looked afar as well as what was right in front of her. Not a poor companion to have at his side, all in all. 

 

They passed through the jungle unmolested for a tense minute. Something crackled in the underbrush and Loki pulled a knife from his belt. A huge beetle emerged from beneath an oversized fern, it’s sword-sized mandibles clacking at them. 

 

Without a conscious thought, Loki interposed himself between the creature and the unarmed human. He drew the other knife and backed them up several steps to higher ground. The insect hissed and lunged forward. It spat a foul yellow liquid that smoked and burned the dead matter on the ground, missing their feet as they dodged away. 

 

“Stay back,” Loki warned.

 

“Ya think?” 

 

_ Why are the women of this world so sarcastic? _

 

Loki quickly surveyed terrain, then bounded up a nearby tree. He used the smaller knife to keep hold of the bark, blade set at an angle against the trunk for a second before leaping onto the broad back of the insect.  _ I hope this mortal keeps his blades sharp. _

 

The knives plunged into a slit between chitinous plates in the beetle’s carapace, anchoring him to the creature’s shell. The insect screeched and bucked, trying to throw him free. His feet scrambled for purchase before finding a ridge he could steady his boots on, hand still gripping the hilts of the knives. 

 

As the creature attempted to dislodge him, Loki looked it over to see if the was a visible weak point. There was a gap between the back of its head and the plates along its back, protected from the front and above, but not below. If he could get close enough, he could probably sever what passed for the creature’s spinal column, which - in Loki’s experience - would kill just about anything. He wrenched one of the blades from the back of the insect and stabbed it down again a foot closer to the head. The beatle squealed and started to thrash violently.  Loki clung to the blades, spread eagle along along the beast’s side. 

 

After a few seconds the beast seemed to realize its thrashing did nothing to dislodge its attacker, and it stilled, just enough for Loki to move. The god quickly shifted the second blade next to the first. A gout of deep green ichor spurted into the air from the wound and the monster bellowed out a horrendous noise. It slowed its struggles, allowing Loki to move faster. He moved the first blade to right behind the head and pulled himself onto the beetle’s back, stradling it like a huge horse. He reached into the carapace with the larger knife and severed its neck with a swift stroke. The insect trembled and died. 

 

_ A marvelous hunt. It is a pity that it’s likely poisonous. _

 

Loki leapt to his feet and stood on the creatures back before jumping down to the forest floor. He grinned in triumph as he cleaned his blades on a nearby fern. 

 

The woman approached him with huge brown eyes. “How did you do that?” 

 

“Do what?” 

 

“All of that… jumping stuff.” She waved a hand. 

 

“Ah. Well. A lot of training,” he replied. It was true, if...simplified.

 

“Uh huh.” 

 

“We should move away a bit and rest, alright?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

They moved through the jungle until they found a small clearing with a fallen log - probably the cause of the clearing. The pair sat against the log. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Loki looked at the blonde, eyebrow raised. 

 

“For taking care of that creature.” 

 

He smiled. “It was my pleasure.” Leaning his head back, he let the body go, back to Midgard and Strange.

 


	14. Earth 1218

 

Loki brought the laptop over to the couch and quietly tapped away while Ben slept in the chair. He wasn’t sure if the mortal had been strained by the magician leaping in out of his body, or if Strange was back and sleeping himself, but it seemed wisest to simply leave him be. 

 

For his part, Loki was finding his own human host utterly fascinating, from his strangely lopsided expressions, to his almost heroic defense of the “character” Loki. The man appeared to be almost unbearably sweet, but was often cast as a villain. Curious. Loki was tempted to watch a clip of the mortal’s portrayal of himself, but something stopped him. If it were identical to his memories… His grip on reality was tenuous enough without undermining it again. 

 

A groan from the chair distracted him from the computer. Dr. Strange was doubled over in agony, clutching at his abdomen. 

 

“Strange?” 

 

Reddened wet eyes looked up at him. 

 

Loki bit his lip. “Are you injured?” 

 

Strange shook his head and dropped it to his chest. He was panting, gasping for air. 

 

Loki hesitated, then got to his feet and marched towards the kitchen. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and returned. 

 

“Here.” He set on the table next to Strange and flopped back onto the sofa. 

 

Stephen rubbed his eyes on his cuff and took the water.  _ Is Loki developing a sense of empathy? Did Hell freeze over while I was gone? _ A sip helped clear his throat. “Thanks.” 

 

Loki nodded and returned his attention to the laptop. Strange appreciated the modicum of privacy. 

 

Half a glass later, Stephen felt back under control. “Did you learn anything useful?” 

 

“No. And you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

There was a long silence. Loki went back to the computer, typing quietly while Strange sipped his water. 

 

“What is meant by the term ‘bromance’?” the god asked.

 

This startled a laugh out of Stephen. “It’s a portmanteau of the words ‘romance’ and ‘bro,’ which is short for ‘brother’, but isn’t meant literally.” 

 

Loki raised an eyebrow.

 

“It refers to pseudo romantic relationships between men.” 

 

The god’s lip curled. “Pseudo romantic?”  

 

“Non-sexual. Or not obviously sexual,” Strange clarified. 

 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

 

“How so?”

 

Loki looked at him like he was an idiot. “That implies that romance and sexuality are intrinsically linked.” 

 

“Yeees?”

 

The god opened his mouth, shut it, and shook his head. “Mortals are fools.” 

 

Strange snorted, and the pair lapsed into silence again. 

 

“What we’ve been doing isn’t working.” Stephen looked down at his hands. 

 

“Clearly not.” 

 

“And if you’re getting bored enough to be looking up random words on the internet, we need to focus.”

 

Loki glared at the magician. “I ran across the term several times during my research. It was not random.” 

 

“Is your research helping?”

 

The god shrugged. 

 

Stephen rubbed his eyes. “Maybe we’ve been going at this the wrong way.”

 

Loki swung up into a sitting position. “I concur. Perhaps we should try to recreate the accident?” 

 

“We don’t have the Eye. Or the Tesseract.” 

 

Loki raised an eyebrow at the sorcerer. “Clearly we do, otherwise we would not be able to call on their power.” 

 

Strange nodded. “Okay, so what do we need to do to change things? We left at the same time this past try, right?” 

 

“Are you certain that it was exactly simultaneous?” 

 

“Hmm, no, not really. You were too far away to be sure.” 

 

“Come then, if you are rested enough for another attempt.” Loki patted the sofa. 

 

Stephen stretched as he stood, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to relax. The last experience still lingered and psychosomatic pains ghosted through his body. He sat on the far side of the couch from Loki. A small smile quirked at the corner of Loki’s mouth, but he refrained from comment. 

 

“Ready?”

 

Strange nodded. “Countdown?”

 

“By all means.” Loki made a small elegant gesture towards his fellow magic user. 

 

“Three. Two. One.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any bets on whether the boys will make it?


	15. War Horse

 

Loki and Strange woke simultaneously and looked up into each other’s eyes. They sat in a half open tent. Before them, a folding table with some sort of beverages in enamel covered metal mugs. It was evening beyond, the sounds of a busy camp drifted in along with the scent of country and horse. 

 

“This is an improvement,” Loki said quietly. 

 

“I’m not sure it is.” Strange looked at their surroundings, worry crowding his eyes. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The uniforms, where we are. We’re in danger.”   

 

Loki touched the sword he felt at his hip. “We are armed, are we not? What kind of danger could we be in?” 

 

“When I was in recovery after my surgeries, I watched a lot of History Channel because I was bored and was too drugged up to do anything else. These are World War I cavalry uniforms.” Stephen indicated the green officers outfits they were both wearing. “Britain sent men on horses with swords against people with machine guns. These men will be slaughtered.” 

 

The blond with Loki’s face across from him paled. “We have to warn them.” 

 

Stephen’s eyes widened. “You’re serious.”

 

The god just looked at him.

 

“Okay, okay. How?” 

 

Loki scowled out of sky blue eyes. “By going into their minds, fool. We can speak with them.” 

 

Strange thought for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right, we have to try. I don’t think it’ll work; these men are soldiers, they have to follow orders, but we have to try.” 

 

Loki puckered his lips in distaste, but nodded. 

 

Stephen folded his arms on the table and lay his head on the cushion created by them. Loki did the same. Neither noticed when a third man came through a few minutes later, chuckled, and took away their mugs. They were long gone by then. 

 

o0o

 

Dr. Strange walked through the halls of the soldier’s mind, wondering how to approach him. Loki had done this before, but he hadn’t. When he had encountered Sherlock Holmes, it was because his host had sought  _ him _ out, not the other way around. Besides, he hadn’t really been trying to convince Holmes of anything, just sort of… chat. Stephen didn’t have a silver tongue, like Loki, just the power of snark. His snark was powerful, but Strange doubted that it would be effective against the far greater power of the British stiff upper lip. 

 

In his own mind, the soldier sat at a desk in a surprisingly humble office. Maybe at the War Office? He looked up as Strange entered through the open door.

 

“Who the devil are you?” 

 

Stephen paused, taken aback. “Dr. Stephen Strange.” 

 

“A doctor? Odd getup for that.” The soldier leaped to his feet, approached strange, and looked him over. “You look a touch familiar, have we met?” 

 

Dr. Strange closed his eyes and suppressed hysterical the laughter that threatened to bubble up into his throat. “No Major, we’ve never met.”

 

“Hmm, don’t know many Yanks, so it seemed dashed unlikely.” The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “So what can I do for you doctor?” 

 

Stephen paused. He could lie, but this would only be remembered as a dream, no matter how his host presented himself. Best to portray himself in a way that would seem logical based on his persona. Something that would make sense to the soldier and come through to the waking world. 

 

“The casualties of the next attack will be detrimental, Major. There will be… We’re expecting very heavy losses. You must be cautious.” 

 

The soldier raised his eyebrows. “Always am. Best way to run the company. I have the best men. Trust them implicitly. Plan as well as possible. All intelligence is important.” 

 

“Then please listen, the enemy is well armed. This war will not be fought like any before it.”

 

Strange could see the soldier frown. “I do the best I can.” 

 

“That’s all any of us can do.” 

 

The magician left the soldier’s dream. Hopefully it would be enough, but Stephen feared it wouldn’t making a scrap of difference. These men were going to die. 

 

o0o

 

Jim dreamed of home. He often did these days. It kept him from the nightmares of his reality. Although he often thought of Charlie’s smile or Jamie’s confidence to keep him going, he was still so frightened. So in his dreams he sat with his sister in a green field, picking flowers like when they were children. 

 

All of a sudden, there was someone else, one who shouldn’t be there. Jim looked up to see a pale man with long black hair dressed in black and green armor with bronze accents. His face… the other man had  _ Jim’s own _ face. 

 

The soldier got to his feet. “Who are you?”

 

“That does not matter,” the other replied, coming closer. “I have come to warn you.” His voice sound like his own, but deeper and with a different accent. Still posh, but… 

 

“Warn me?” 

 

“You are grave danger.” 

 

“I’m a soldier. Danger is part of the job.” 

 

The stranger sighed deeply. “Child, Valhalla is not waiting for you. You will be killed in hail of metal and fire. There is no glory in this war. Your sword will shed no blood. You are simply a pawn for those who do not yet realize that war has moved beyond them.” 

 

Jim swallowed down his fear. “I do this for king and country, not for glory,” he forced himself to say. “Heaven expects me.”  

 

“He was right,” the stranger muttered to himself. “Soldiers be damned.” 

 

“What are you then, if not a soldier?” Jim pointed to the other’s armor. 

 

The pale man stood quietly for a moment. “A warrior, a sneak, a spy, a general, a failure. I have fought in wars, mortal, and died many times. It is not pleasant. I do not recommend it.”

 

Jim fell silent. “I appreciate the warning. I’ll think on it.” 

 

The strange man bowed, eyes never leaving his face. A mist of gold and green smoke burst into the air, and the man was gone.

 

o0o 

  
  


The next morning, Jim rose with the dawn with his countrymen. Jamie and Charlie by his side. And just as the officers commanded, they charged the Germans, for king and country and glory and everything he’d been told. It was only as the horses trampled tents, sabers brought enemy soldiers low, and they approached the tree line that the stranger’s words came to Jim’s mind. As he saw the barrels of a line of machine guns hidden just beyond the trees. As he saw his death coming for him; a spinning iron cloud of destruction. 

 


	16. Earth 1218

 

For the first time, Loki and Strange came back to their primary host bodies simultaneously. Their eyes met over the breakfast bar, noting the fragrant, steaming teacups in front of them. 

 

“How British.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow at the human. 

 

Strange tapped the cup in front of him. “They’re trying to figure out what’s going on, so they drink tea.” 

 

“Does that help?” 

 

“Not my culture.” Stephen shrugged and sniffed the tea. “We should alter their memories. When we leave.” 

 

The god made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. “I have an idea of how to do that now.” 

 

“How to leave?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Proximity to one another?” 

 

Loki nodded. “I believe we will need to be touching in order for the Eye and the Tesseract to combine their powers.” 

 

“That makes sense.” 

 

“We should rest first and assure that our hosts do not fall prey to madness.” 

 

“Rest,” Strange scoffed.“I didn’t think you knew the meaning of the word.”

 

“I would prefer to get home in one piece, mortal.” 

 

They both fell silent. 

 

A moment later, Strange got to his feet and walked slowly to the couch in the living area. “I’m going to take care of my host’s memory. I’ll leave the impression that they got food poisoning at that restaurant and that they were sick.” 

 

Loki nodded. “I suppose I shall take care of mine as well.” He hesitated then came to sit beside Dr. Strange on the sofa. “You shall wait for me.” 

 

“We can’t get home without each other.” 

  
  


o0o

 

After everything they’d been through, the inside of Ben’s mind was remarkably ordinary. Like many minds, it manifested as a series of hallways and doors. It was easy for Strange to find the most recent memories; they were misty and glittered faintly, doors glowing even in the well-lit mindscape.

 

As he looked beyond the doors, Strange noted how sharply Loki’s host contrasted with his surroundings. Tom was just more real than everything else. There they were, just having lunch together and Tom had a halo of bright reality about him. In some ways that made altering the memories even harder. In others… well, as long as Tom was there, the details faded out. He wondered how much that was recognised by the pair and if it was reciprocated. Whether this was romantic love or a strong friendship. 

 

It wasn't his place to dig. 

 

Wiping out those recently made memories wasn't the easiest thing without full access to all of his magic and tools. Strange managed it with only a little difficulty, since they hadn't settled into the mind completely. Replacing the memories with illness and fatigue required more work. He had to draw on existing memories, cutting and pasting them until they would pass for new ones. The human mind would naturally smooth the edges of memory, but it was wiser to hide the evidence of his plagiarism. If he did his job right, his host’s mind would naturally veer away from this day now. It would protect itself from the knowledge of this alien experience. 

 

By the time he'd finished Dr. Strange was exhausted. He crept out of Ben's mind and rested.

 

o0o

  
  


Instead of seeking out his host's memory, Loki sought out his consciousness. Tom appeared sitting alone on the edge of a wooden cliff surrounded in darkness. Clothed in common Midgardian clothing - a white tee-shirt and jeans - he otherwise looked the same as his physical body. The god approached cautiously along the edge of the cliff, but he made no attempt to hide his presence. He appeared in just a tunic and leggings with his boots rather than full armor so as to not alarm the other. The mortal looked up at his footsteps, and his eyes widened. 

 

“You.” The word was just a breath. 

 

“Me,” the god agreed as he strode slowly forward. “You do not seem especially surprised to see me.” 

 

“I'm not, though I'm not sure I could explain why.” 

 

Loki pointed to a spot on the cliff next to the mortal. “May I?” At Tom's nod, he sat. “What is this place?”

 

“A stage, for performing theater productions.” 

 

Loki nodded “Ah. I understand.”

 

Tom tugged at his collar and frowned. “Why are you here? Have I gone too method and finally had a psychotic break?” 

 

“I don’t understand.” 

 

“Some actors, when they go deep into a character, it can take you over. You lose the ability to distinguish the character from yourself.” 

 

Loki thought for a moment. “Could this be referred to as ‘bleeding’?””

 

“Character bleed, yes.” 

 

The god of mischief smiled. “Your friend accused me of that.” 

 

Tom covered his face with his hands; blushing, but also smiling. “What did you do?” 

 

“Apparently he is quite taken with me.” 

 

The human peaked out between his long fingers. “You’re joking.” 

 

Loki raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Oh no.” Tom laughed and shook his head. 

 

“Worry not, he will not remember that this day happened as it did.” 

 

“What?” Tom looked up; his eyes were a startled sky blue. “What’s actually been happening? What are you going to do to me?” 

 

“Be calm. I will not do anything against your wishes.” Loki placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I have no quarrel with you. Quite the opposite in fact. I… appreciate your portrayals of me, though I have not been able to bring myself to watch them in full.”

 

“Why not?” 

 

“I shall explain how I came to be here, and I believe that will help elucidate my reasoning. You know of Dr. Strange, yes?” 

 

Tom nodded. 

 

“He and I fought in our universe, there was an accident which brought us into yours. I was pulled into your body, he into your friend’s.” 

 

“At lunch. Earlier today.”

 

“Indeed.” Loki tilted his head slightly. “He and I have been trying to escape back to our own universe ever since. When we inhabit your bodies, you and your friend are rendered unconscious, which is why you have periods of lost time.” 

 

“Ah.” Tom rubbed his chin abscently. ”What’s happened when…” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m actually having this conversation with...with  _ you _ . What’s happened when you’ve tried to escape and it didn’t work?” 

 

“We have found ourselves in the worlds of other characters that you have portrayed.” 

 

Tom looked at Loki, his eyes widened. “How?”

 

Loki gave an elegant lift of his shoulders. “I cannot say, but that is what your internet said when I returned and researched where I had been. Strange agreed.” 

 

“Where did you go? Whose worlds?”

 

“Is that truly important? Some were pleasant, some were not. Every character you have ever portrayed might be as real as I, or it may be only a few. I do not know.” 

 

Tom sat silently and stared out into the darkness. He scratched at his collarbone, his heels kicking against the wood of the stage. “So, are you going to take my memories?”

 

“Do you wish me to?”

 

“Does Ben have his?”

 

“Unless Dr. Strange has changed his mind, likely not. His plan was to make your friend believe that you both suffered a foodborne illness contracted from your noontime meal.” 

 

“Clever.” Tom leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands covering the lower part of his face. “And you can do the same to me?”

 

“If you wish it.” 

 

“Otherwise, I’ll remember all the weirdness, meeting you, everything.” 

 

Loki smiled. 

 

Tom turned his eyes to the god, looking him over. “I can’t forget you. I won’t. I’ve… You’ve been such an important part of me for so long. Just knowing that you’re real.” He hesitantly reached out and touched Loki’s arm. Tears glittered in the corners of his eyes at the solidity of the contact. “I don’t care if I’ve gone mad. I’m just happy you’re here.” 

 

Loki blinked. Was this mortal actually weeping in joy because of his mere presence? Rather than face how uncomfortable that made him, he got to his feet. “I should go, Strange will be waiting.” 

 

“Oh. Alright.” Tom scrambled to his feet as well, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “I just... There are a couple of things I wanted to say.”

 

Loki inclined his head.

 

“Okay, Thor loves you. Try and accept it.”

 

Loki stumbled back like he’d been hit in the stomach with Mjolnir. “What can you possibly know of my brother?” 

 

Loki recognized Tom’s expression as one that would have been just as at home on the god’s own face, obstinate and determined. “I know  _ my _ Thor and how we do things. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s your own stubbornness that keeps him at arm’s length.”

 

“I may take back what I said about having no quarrel with you, mortal.”

 

Tom took a few brave steps forward and placed his hands on the god’s shoulders. “You deserve another chance. You deserve to be happy. You deserve love.” And with that, he pulled Loki into a hug. 

 

Completely baffled, the God of Mischief just stood there. The hug was… nice. Undemanding, not rib cracking the way that Thor’s were. He and his former host were the same size, and obviously the mortal was physically weaker, but that hardly mattered in a mindscape. He could pull away if he wished. Easily. But he did not wish to. Slowly, Loki brought his arms up and returned the embrace. 

 

Loki spoke quietly into Tom’s shoulder, whispering to this mortal who seemed to know him so well. “I do not know how accurately your world reflects mine, but things between Thor and myself are very complex. We do not trust one another easily, and that may be wise.”

 

“I know.” The hug tightened for a moment. “I really do. I don’t know too much about your past… before… before you left Asgard, but I know most things from then on.” Loki flinched. “Try talking about it with him. It might help.” 

 

Loki pulled away slightly and looked at the human. He saw no judgment in the clear blue eyes. Part of him wanted to strike out at that beauty and bring it down to his own level with viscous words. To prove he, Loki, was a monster. The other part of him just wanted to drown in the changing seas of his eyes. They were so beautiful. Nothing like his own. Loki opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “If I say anything, I shall regret it. You are too pure.” 

 

Tom laughed. “I’m really not.” 

 

“You pretend terrible things. I have done them,” the god snapped. 

 

Tom nodded and offered his hands. He looked like he wanted to step away from the aggravated god, but stood his ground.  

 

“My apologies, mortal. It was not my intention to lose my temper with you. I appreciate that you are trying to help.” Tom smiled. It was so unlike Loki’s usual smile that it was hard to reconcile their faces to be the same. It was woven of silken sunlight where Loki’s were carved  from bitter diamonds. “I have come to appreciate that… by  _ becoming _ someone you can understand them. So I do accept that you grasp something of my experience.” 

 

“I understand that you’re in a tremendous amount of pain all the time. That you feel hated, reviled for what you are. Part of you feels like you deserve that; that you’re a monster. The other  feels that you’re a king and should be treated as such. You’ve been lied to, betrayed, taught to feel rancor for your very being. How could you not lash out?” 

 

Loki shuddered as the human’s words struck. Every one of them was true. He wrapped his arms around his torso, head down, hair falling over his face, covering his tears. 

 

Tom put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Loki?” The mortal’s voice was soft. 

 

“Oh that you could speak with Thor on my behalf. I fear that I am not so articulate when my emotions take control.” Loki wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

 

“Love and hate make strange bedfellows.” 

 

“Not anymore, I’m afraid.” 

 

Tom raised an eyebrow. Loki returned the look with a bitter smirk. 

 

“I’d wondered.” 

 

Loki snorted. “I take it that is not in your ‘films’?” 

 

“Not with a 12A rating, no.” Tom saw confusion on the god’s face. “The films are classified to determine if they’re approved for children or not. 12A means that a given film may be appropriate for children twelve and older.”

 

“These numbers mean nothing to me.”

 

“Most children are barely into puberty.” 

 

“Ah, yes.” Loki grinned. “Suggesting that one might be having sexual relations with one’s brother might be too much for a child of that age.” 

 

Tom stifled a laugh. 

 

“But clearly there are films for more mature audiences…” 

 

“Ah, yes.” Tom rubbed the back of his head looking slightly embarrassed. “I’ve done my share of those too.” 

 

“Indeed.” Loki smiled. 

 

“I don’t think I want to know.” 

 

The god laughed. “If that is your will, I shall not speak on it.” His eyes brimmed with of amusement at the mortals discomfort. “I  _ should _ go.” 

 

“Yes, alright.” Once again, Tom pulled Loki into a hug, and this time he responded in kind. “Good luck with everything.”

 

“You as well. I may visit again.”

 

“I’d like that.” 

 

“Remember, your friend will have a very different memory of today.”

 

“I remember. I’m a terrible liar though.” 

 

Loki laughed. “You will just have to  _ bleed _ for it then. Farewell Tom.” 

 

“Bye Loki.” 

 

And Tom was alone in his mind again. 

 


	17. Earth(s)

 

It Loki a little longer to return to the living room than it had Strange, which gave the human magician some small amount of time to rest. When the god’s presence lit Tom’s eyes, the god looked disgustingly alert and self satisfied. 

 

“Are you ready?” Strange asked.

 

“Of course.” 

 

The pair grasped one another’s forearms. It was awkward for each of them, both because of the position and because they still didn’t much care for one another. But a warrior’s clasp seemed less intimate than holding hands. 

 

Strange counted down. “Three, two, one.” 

 

This time, when they pulled on the powers of the Eye and the Tesseract, the energies blended into one another. Instead of a subtle shift of magic within them, turquoise light flooded the sitting room. A whirlwind built around the pair; brushed through their hair and clothes and stirred the papers on the nearby table. The light and air danced around them, the blue of the Tesseract and green of the Eye of Agamotto shimmering into one another. The Stones blending their power even as the two magic users came together, finally in concordance. 

 

Both men collapsed back onto the couch. The colored vortex dissipated, and the room fell into shadow.  

 

A few minutes later, the two forms on the sofa stirred. Ben groaned and pulled his hand away from Tom’s arm to rub his face. 

 

Tom reached out and touched his friend’s shoulder. “How’re you feeling?” 

 

“Like I was hit by a bus,” Ben groaned. A pale gray-blue eye peeked out between his fingers. “You?”

 

Tom smiled. “Better. Much better.” 

  
  


o0o

 

Somehow Dr. Strange had expected them to snap back into their proper bodies, but colorless void that surrounded them. He realized the two magicians had appeared back in the space where they’d fought in their astral forms rather than returning to their bodies. 

 

“So.” 

 

Loki raised an enquiring eyebrow. “Yes?” 

 

“Now what?” 

 

“We go home.” 

 

“Do we have to try and kill each other again?” 

 

Loki laughed. “That will depend on the circumstances of our next meeting. We may be on the same side, we may not. I cannot tell.” 

 

Stephen sighed. “I guess that’s the best I’m gonna get.” 

 

“It is.” Loki smirked. “As the bearers of two of the Infinity Stones, it is inevitable that our paths will cross again. It is just a question of time.” 

 

“There’s a war coming. You know that, right?” Loki inclined his head in agreement. “Whose side will you be on?” 

 

“What a stupid question. On the winning side, of course.” 

 

“That’s about what I expected. See you around.” Dr. Strange gave a small wave and tugged on the astral line that lead back to his body. 

 

“What is the Midgardian phrase? Not if I see you first.” Loki grinned and let the Tesseract pull him back to the ship. 

 


	18. Epilogue

 

Loki came back to his body with a sense of relief. Finally, something that felt _right_. His traitorous, malleable body. He looked down at the glowing cube in his lap and frowned. “You have caused me nothing but trouble, do you realize that?” Speaking to the Stone was pointless, but it made him feel better.

 

A knock came at the door, and Loki jumped. He twisted the Tesseract into his pocket dimension for safe keeping; nobody knew he had it, after all. “Enter.”

 

The door slip open to reveal Thor standing in the hallway looking down at his own feet. “May I come in, brother?”

 

Loki blinked. “Of course.”

 

Thor came into the tiny cabin and the door slid shut. He towered over Loki since he still sat on the bed. Thor picked at the corner of his tunic. His one good eye roamed over the space, looking at everything except his brother.

 

“Sit, you great oaf.” Loki shifted over so that there was more space on the narrow bed. Thor sat and stared at his hands knotted in his lap. “What troubles you?”

 

Loki wanted to bite something, it took Thor so long to answer. “Are you going to leave?”

 

“Do you want me to?” Loki responded without thinking, his tone bitter.  

 

Thor didn’t look up. “No. But I do not expect you to stay.”

 

“I…” Loki stopped himself from snapping at his brother. “I had thought to stay.”

 

Thor looked up, a smile sneaking onto his mouth. “You had?”

 

“I am here, am I not? Besides, you need me.”

 

“Aye, I do.”

 

Loki swallowed hard, trying to read Thor’s expression. He’d ceased to know his brother’s thoughts - when they pertained to himself - long ago. He thought he saw warmth in Thor’s eye, but couldn’t be sure. “Thor…” he stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize, but not really. He wanted... “I want to make things right between us again.”

 

Thor grinned. “I wish the same, brother.” He hesitated for a moment, then put his arm around Loki’s shoulders.When he felt that the darker god would not pull away, he squeezed..

 

“Now, I have a tale to tell you, brother. I have been traveling.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes. What know you of the worlds beyond Yggdrasil?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the end of this story! Thank you for reading/kudosing/commenting! 
> 
> So, a few notes on how this proceeds. "Strange Mischief" has two timelines which branch from this point, which I realize is confusing, but this story - perhaps not unexpectedly - grew into a giant multiverse. You are at the trunk of Yggdrasil and have a choice as to which realm to go onto (assuming you want to) (please want to). 
> 
> My primary story-line is "Seeking Mischief", the next volume of which is ["Dreaming of Mischief".](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622460/chapters/31278282) This story was written BEFORE _Infinity War_ and is mostly compliant. This series is about Loki and Tom's adventures - and developing relationship - together. The last story in this series is nearly completely posted and covers post _Infinity War_ events (poor Tom). There are 32 chapters. Loki's fine. JUST FINE. 
> 
> The second series is "The Strange Path". Although there are more works in this other series, it's shorter, significantly weirder and more experimental. Most of these stories were written AFTER _Infinity War_ and start with a short story called ["Sentiment".](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432811) This takes a different path in terms of Tom and Ben's relationship, and involves a lot more Sherlock. Because Sherlock and Loki are awesome together. 
> 
> Hopefully this helps explain an otherwise confusing situation! 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading!


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